Lethal Rider

Eidolon. “Doctor?”

“Tayla gave birth to a healthy baby boy six months ago.” His smile was bittersweet. “I just hope he has a decent world to grow up in.”

“I hope so, too,” she murmured.

Eidolon reached into his medical bag. “Regan, I’m going to try to listen to your womb again. Last time it didn’t go so well, but I’m hoping to get just a little of the baby’s heartbeat before I’m thrown across the room.”

She started to tell him to go ahead when agony tore through her midsection. She jackknifed up with a scream, sure someone was cutting into her with a chainsaw. Her pulse drummed viciously in her throat, clogging it, cutting off the rest of her screams. She’d been stabbed, clawed, bitten, nearly eviscerated, and nothing, dear God, nothing, had ever hurt like this.

Gulping air like a dying fish, she fell back onto the bed again, clutching the sheets in her fists and digging her heels into the mattress as she tried to get away from the pain.

Eidolon and Shade were asking her questions, but she couldn’t answer them. Right now she couldn’t even understand them.

Thanatos burst through the doorway. “What’s wrong?” He was at her side in a heartbeat, taking her hand and cupping her cheek.

She wasn’t sure if anyone answered Thanatos. The pain knifed through her again, accompanied by a warm gush between her legs. She heard curses and big medical words, felt towels sopping up blood.

Dizziness swamped her. And cold. She was so cold. Thanatos’s voice drifted to her, calling out her name, but she couldn’t answer. Her mouth was too dry. Or maybe she just couldn’t open it.

Another blade of agony turned her world inside out, this time lasting longer than she could scream. And then, merciful darkness.

Thirty-six

Thanatos had never been so afraid in his life. “Eidolon? What’s happening? She’s unconscious.” And there was blood. So much blood.

“Thanatos—check her pulse.”

Than pressed two fingers against Regan’s throat, his own pulse pounding as hard as Regan’s. “It’s strong. Crazy strong. That’s good, right?”

“Fuck!” Eidolon’s inability to do anything but change out soaked towels for dry ones had released his temper. His eyes, once brown, now glowed gold. “Not good. Her body is trying to compensate for the loss of blood. I think she’s had a uterine rupture.”

The word rupture was never good. “What’s that mean?”

“It means she’s bleeding out, and I can’t do a damned thing about it.” Eidolon cursed again. “The baby is protecting her, and ironically, giving birth to it is going to kill her.”

“No.” Thanatos shoved to his feet. “You have to do something. Regan said The Aegis bastards were going to deliver him. They found a way—”

“If they found a way, it was with evil magic,” Eidolon interrupted. “Too dangerous to attempt even if we had time to figure out what they planned.”

“Then let me do something. Please.”

“You can monitor her pulse and breathing.” Eidolon tossed a soaked towel to the floor and glanced up, his dark eyes grave. “And if worse comes to worst …”

Than’s stomach bottomed out. “Don’t say it, Doc. Don’t.”

Eidolon said it anyway, the bastard. “You might have to perform a C-section and hope to hell she doesn’t wake up.”

Thanatos’s mind raced. Someone had to be able to help. “You have a daywalker at UG. Get him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullfuckingshit! I saw him. I recognize a daywalking vampire when I see one.”

Eidolon grabbed more towels. “I swear to you, Horseman, I do not have a daywalker on my staff.”

Fuck. Okay, wait… Reaver had been a doctor at UG before he regained his wings. He’d come back from the Hall of Records a split second before Regan screamed.

Than didn’t waste time. Hit the great room at a run. “Reaver, hurry.”

They charged back to the bedroom, the stench of blood slapping him in the face. He’d grown scent-blind to the smell of blood over the centuries, but this was different. This was Regan’s, and it might as well be spilling from him, too. As soon as they were inside, it became clear Reaver wasn’t going to do anything.

“Reaver?” Than’s voice cracked. “Come on, she’s dying.”

“I can’t touch her.”

“Can’t,” he spat, “or won’t.” At this point, Thanatos didn’t give a shit about Watcher rules or prophecies or the goddamned laws of physics that kept the planet spinning. He wanted—needed—Regan to survive.

“Both. As a Watcher, I’m not supposed to help, but even if I risked breaking that rule, it doesn’t matter. I can’t make contact with her any more than Eidolon can.”

“I can touch her.”

Than whirled to see Gethel standing in the doorway. Thanatos had never been happier to see his ex-Watcher. “How?”

“I’m an angel,” she said simply. “Only the Watchers are prevented from making contact with Regan.” She glided over to the bed and placed her hand on Regan’s belly. “The child is doing well.” She sank down on the bed and gathered Regan in her arms, almost as though she was going to rock her to sleep. “Poor thing. Humans are so frail.”

Eidolon stripped off his gloves and reached for another pair. “I hate to be rude, but she doesn’t have much time.” He looked between Than and Gethel. “If you can’t stop the internal bleeding, we need to get her to Underworld General and I’ll talk you both through surgery.”

Thanatos so did not like that idea, especially since Regan had said she couldn’t tolerate medications. Which meant no sedation, no pain control, no transfusions, no clotting agents. Eidolon didn’t say it, but Thanatos knew the surgery wouldn’t be to save her. The operation would be to get the baby out.

“I can handle this, demon,” Gethel said, putting a sour note on demon. In her arms, Regan gasped, her eyes peeling open.

“Regan.” Than started toward her, but even as Regan screamed in pain, Gethel inclined her head in a slow nod, and then, in a flash of light, she and Regan were gone.

“Hell’s fucking rings,” Shade snapped. “Where’d she go?”

Thanatos was close to hyperventilating. He’d trusted Gethel for thousands of years, but he did not like this. He needed to be with Regan. He needed to be there when his son was born.

“Horseman?” Eidolon asked. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” he rasped. “Reaver, do you know anything about this?”

Reaver looked like he’d been shot between the eyes. The stunned confusion in his expression did little to reassure Than.

“Reaver?”

Reaver swiveled around to him. “Can you sense the baby?”

Fear spiked, cold and urgent. “Yeah.”

“Ares!” Reaver’s bellow made everyone jump, and then Ares was there, barreling through the doorway, armed and armored. Reaver turned back to Than. “Gate us to your son.”

Lore shouldered his way past Ares. “I’m going too.”

The more the merrier. Everyone poured out of the keep, and praying the gate wouldn’t slice into Regan on the other side, Thanatos threw it open and leaped through into some sort of candlelit chamber. His internal GPS told him they were exactly where he’d predicted Pestilence would take the baby; the island of Steara in Sheoul. But what he hadn’t predicted was the instant fury and horror that seared him, all heated by betrayal.